You Hold Me Together
by lizook
Summary: She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The past four weeks had been excruciating. Based on the S4 finale spoiler.


**Spoilers/Timeline**: Based on the huge, gigantic spoiler for the S4 finale. If you want to remain unspoiled, turn away now. This is based purely on speculation and lots of discussion with **CupcakeBean**. Set early S5.

**Disclaimer**: Bones does not belong to me. Story title from Dierks Bentley's amazing new song of the same name.

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She drummed her fingers on her desk, glancing at her computer to check the time. He should be here by now. He'd certainly made the drive from Hoover to the Jeffersonian in less than fifteen minutes in the past.

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The past four weeks had been excruciating. She hadn't realized how much she'd come to depend on him - how much she looked forward to working with him - until it had stopped. She had spent much of her time going through cases in Limbo, but it just wasn't the same.

Showing up to their sessions with Sweets and finding that she was the only one there was awkward as well. She could understand Booth's reasoning, but it still surprised her. And, yet, she continued to keep up with the sessions. Sure, she had an inherent distrust for psychology, but she respected Sweets. They'd spent most of this time focusing on her family instead of her partnership, which, she had to admit, was a nice change. Still, there was something disconcerting about sitting next to Booth's empty chair.

She moved in her seat, resisting the urge to look at the clock again; he would be there soon enough and the worry lodged in the pit of her stomach would disappear entirely. She wasn't as closed off as most believed; she could recognize her emotions, catalog them. She just found it was often best to suppress them. Likewise, she'd known for a while that she had feelings for Booth lurking just below the surface. She wasn't adept at feelings though so she'd ignored them completely. After their..._tryst_...she couldn't ignore it anymore. She cared about him. _**Deeply**_**. **

It had quickly become quite clear that it couldn't happen again if they wanted to continue to work together. Acknowledging you had feelings and being ready to deal with them - to act on them - were two entirely different things. She wasn't ready yet and he knew it. Perhaps it was why things had been so weird in the aftermath; the air - if possible - even more electric than before.

So they had said nothing formal, instead, embarking on a self-imposed hiatus from working with one another. He'd spent the time working kidnappings, citing re-injury of his back when Cullen probed. There was plenty for her to do around the Jeffersonian and, thankfully, there had only been three FBI cases in the interim that needed her expertise. Things might be awkward between them, but he was still the only FBI agent she wanted to work with.

"Bones," Her eyes flew open as he barged in. "I told you to be ready! Where's your kit?" He started for the couch, nervous energy apparent.

"I was ready five minutes after you called." She stood and grabbed her jacket. "I just utilized the time to review Wendell's findings on this case from Limbo. I do have other duties, Booth." She crossed her arms, inwardly grimacing at the lie.

"Maybe you'd be happy if we just stopped working together period."

Shocked silence threatened to engulf them. Then, her voice came, quiet at first, but quickly rising. "You know that's not true! How could you even say it?"

"I don't know it's not true because you -" His eyes blazed and she couldn't help but think that's how they'd looked that night when he'd pulled her close. "never share with me unless I hound you about how you're feeling!"

"Hound?! What do dogs have to do with this? Besides," She continued, missing the amused look settling on his face. "you rarely share _**your**_ feelings with me!"

His laughter, even in its sudden, inappropriateness, drained the tension from her. She reveled in the feeling so much that she almost missed his soft words, "I'm trying, Bones. We both are." He cleared his throat. "Now, you don't want the FBI techs compromising evidence so we better get moving."

His hand fell to its place on her back, burning through the fabric, and she found herself murmuring, "I've missed this, Booth." As he steered her out of the office, she knew, though he didn't say it, that he had, too.


End file.
